


As Many as the Stars and More

by DizzIzzi



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect 3 - Fandom, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: A little dash of backstory, Cutness, Dreams and Nightmares, Earthborn (Mass Effect), F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Lesbians in Space, Love, Married Couple, Mass Effect 3, No Smut, Post-Coital Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Short & Sweet, Sleepy Cuddles, Some angst, Tattoos, War Hero (Mass Effect), vague physical description of Shepard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 04:15:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19221397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzIzzi/pseuds/DizzIzzi
Summary: A story in which tattoos take the place of sheep...Or whatever equivalent animal Asari would use.One of those short and sweet glimpses into a love story between two broken people.  The kind of love story where you know everything will end up OK because they'll always be together, always...





	As Many as the Stars and More

**Author's Note:**

> LIARA IS MY SWEET AND NERDY WIFE, OKAY!?!?  
> I LOVE HER.  
> I can't stop romancing her either...
> 
>  
> 
> P.S.  
> HAPPY PRIDE DAY!!!

         I count her tattoos as we lie in bed.  Each is unique and no matter how many times I see them—watch as they swirl above me while we writhe, trace them as I tend to her wounds, kiss them as we bask in our sympathetic glows—I always feel this sense of wonder.  These are _hers_ , mementos and reminders of a past no one should ever have to go through, of people and places long gone but never forgotten as she immortalized them into her skin.  Unlike any ancient texts or decrepit ruin I have studied, her skin is the most comforting puzzle I ever wish to solve.  She does not talk about some—the fleur at the nape of the neck, the plump lips caressing an “L” in the divet above her hip, the fractured skull hidden beneath her raven bush, her first name hidden within a barcode beneath her bright, dyed hair that she thought I wouldn’t notice—and I know not to pry even though the mystery drives me wild with curiosity, that keeps me alive in the small hours of the morning sifting through the endless flows of data I receive.

         I caress a familiar one, an intimate one, entwined into the inky, curving intricacies of her toned stomach.  It is my favorite out of all of them, a little blue heart with ethereal black and red wings; my fingers can feel it etched deep into her beautifully covered skin.  Were she able, I am sure she would encase herself in such armor until she could walk the Presidium and not be caught streaking…

         The shaking of my chest against hers wakes my lover; she has always had the most keenest of senses, needed to from the day she was born.  Panic grips her overworked eyes, I should never have moved, she needs her rest.

         My eyes meet hers and I fill them with peace and calm, hoping that perhaps—against all odds—she would be able to sleep for the rest of the night after my unthinking action.  I watch as onyx orbs phase and unfocus, perhaps her mind is not awake after all?  No, I know she is awake; she is a soldier, a soldier must be ready for anything.  My lips feel warm upon hers, their rough texture scratching at mine in an odd way that I don’t know if I dislike.  I stroke her tousled hair, so rich and thick between my fingers.

         I love her, have always loved her since first I laid eyes upon the helmetless woman as she ripped into my attackers.  I love her across time and space; the kind of love that transcends death and eternity.  I am as much hers as she is mine, our minds fitting together like the well-worn pair of fingerless gloves she wears—two souls completely interlaced for all to see.  Our union is always joyous and I look forward with childish glee to the nights my lover crushes my physical shell in her strong embrace as we truly become one being.  She is my rock, my star to guide me through the endless night and I am her safe harbor, the most precious thing in her stormy world.  Even though we have changed—hardened and battered by a suffocatingly cruel fate—our feelings, our _need_ , has not.  I love her, every fiber of her.

         She kisses me back, weak and sleepy but filled with affection, as her eyelids slip closed to reveal the forgotten kohl smudged across them.  My nails trail our familiar pattern across her side of our shared heart.  Her smile has a joyous, liberated quality I never see outside of these moments in the dark of our “night” as the stars of countless worlds slide past and our nightmares can be momentarily tabled.  I’ve felt hers, our long-standing union now a door into the other’s thoughts, and they scare me.  I will never tell her—perhaps she knows but will not tell me for fear of what may come next—but as she runs after that little boy, the embodiment of all her worst failures, I pale in fear at the raw futility of it.  She will never catch him, never face the ghosts of her past as my lover loses herself in the mists between life and death.

         I feel her, like a thread, suspended taut across an endless chasm and I quiver—I do not want her to die.  The thought of her leaving me like this makes me want to end it all, burn everything down because it will not matter then, she won’t be _here_ , with me.  Even though I will outlive her I cannot help but yearn for her, to silently plead with her to live just a little while longer, to stay with me for this year and the next and the next and the next and the next.  I cannot dwell—for the sake of my lover and I both I must not, will not.  The smell of her naked body pressed into mine is like the headiest aroma I could ever smell; the scent of sweat, sex, and my own ardor coating her in the most satisfying of ways.

         I beg my body for rest, the sweet oblivion of dreamless sleep nestled into the love of my life.  As my racing brain finally stills and my eyes close all I see is her lips, her lopsided smile—the one she keeps just for me.  Goddess, she is beautiful.  I try to count her tattoos but I sip away before seeing even one.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this little peek into two badass lovebirds' lives!
> 
> There will come a day, maybe sooner rather than later, when more content involving Alice and Liara.  
> Because who doesn't like to hear about traumatized lesbians in space???
> 
> Yours, with Love  
> -Izzi


End file.
